


You Are The Reason

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Secret Santa Exchange
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 17





	You Are The Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamremy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/gifts).



> Written for @thelegendofwinchester on tumblr for the Sastiel Secret Santa Exchange!

The blackened silhouette of a house in the near distance was easily spotted against the twilight sky, as the the Impala rocked the inhabitants of the car in a familiar, comfortable - albeit quite bumpy - manner.

As they got closer, the light of their car lighting up the derelict house, both men leaned forward heads tilting as they observed the exterior.

“Well… That’s as good as it’s gonna get.” The car stopped. “You with me Sammy?” and with a flourish, the older of the two got out of the car and stretched himself.

Sam rolled his eyes as he got out of the car, feeling no need for theatrics.

“We  _ just _ got into the car ten minutes ago, Dean.”

“Ten minutes too many in this town. Your fault for waking me up in the asscrack of dawn.”

Sam sighed and shrugged as he moved to the back of the Impala, to retrieve the weapons they needed.

A couple of days earlier they’d gotten a lead to what could potentially be another hunt; however, when they got to town and started poking around they’d found out it must have been a regular haunting rather than what the nest of vamps they’d first assumed this was.

Dean had remarked, “So the castle looked like something out of a Dracula movie. Sue me.” Sam had simply given Dean an amused look.

Now they stood here, flashlights drawn, as they looked further at the exterior before they both simultaneously took their first steps towards the house.

Entering the house, the boys looked around, Dean gesturing for Sam to look through the door to their left while Dean looked upstairs.

Sam shook his head in bewilderment but went to look through the room anyway.

The room looked like it used to be a storeroom, the dust settled heavily over the sacks and cabinets containing glass cases with food. It seemed as if the previous owners had forgotten everything in their haste to get out; the cases seemingly expensive and sturdy.

Out of his peripheral vision, he spotted something out of place and turned his head to look; A simple stone, on the table behind one of the abandoned sacks. Taking a closer look, there was nothing special about it, except for the lack of dust - so it must have been placed here recently.

He picked it up to turn it around and frowned at the inscription when he got a piercing headache, letting go immediately to hold his head instead, but the pain faded immediately.

“Huh…” someone must have placed it there for a reason. He looked around the room to see if there was anything he could pick the stone up with that wouldn’t require direct contact, when he decided he’d rip some of the cloth from one of the sacks to contain the stone in.

Placing it in his pocket, he looked up as he heard a commotion from directly above him and rushed upstairs aid Dean with whatever he was fighting.

As he reached Dean, he stopped at the sight; Dean was on the floor with a burned necklace to his left and a cocky grin spread over his face.

“Simple salt and burn, baby.”

Sam let’s out an exasperated sigh as he shook his head and walked away from Dean, whom he could hear scrambling to his feet and reach him in a matter of seconds.

“Man, I’m starving.”

“We’ll get something to eat now, Dean.”

“Good, but I’m picking the place. I did all the work back there.”

Sam huffed. That was fair, “Just please, nothing like the last place.”

“Dude,  _ you _ picked the last place.”

“I mean, nothing like the last place  _ you  _ picked.”

“What’s wrong with  _ El Domino _ ?”

“They kept taking our food and switching it with whomever ordered last!”

“That just meant we got more food!”

They stopped bickering when they reach the Impala, Dean rushing inside it like he was coming home. Which in all fairness, he was. Or maybe it was just the prospect of getting closer to food that excited him. Either way, Sam smiled fondly at him before climbing in, his own stomach complaining about the lack of food.

  
  


They were back in the bunker two days later. Dean had decided to go to sleep and Sam stayed up to do some reading in the bunker’s vast library.

He’d just picked up a book, when he heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam turned around and smiled when he saw the angel behind him, a fond smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Hey Castiel.”

He didn’t know how to react to him lately. A few weeks back Castiel had been describing a distinct emotion to Dean in very great detail. Dean had been working on a protection sigil on a box they’d planned to bury with all the cursed items they’d come across, all the while dutifully listening to his friend’s woes. Unbeknown to the two of them, Sam had been behind one of the shelves placing back the books he’d been reading, and bookmarking the pages he found useful, while listening to Castiel with a hint of amusement on his face.

Cas had then gone into detail about the softness of the hair and the blindingly mesmerizing eyes, and Sam held back a snort. It was adorable, really.

When Dean had then explained to him that - “Buddy, you’re catching feels,” - Sam had wanted to laugh. He didn’t know why Dean’d chosen that particular phrasing, but trust Dean to always make a phrase sound ridiculous and serious all at once - which is what this situation most definitely was.

Castiel had made a frustrated sound, but Dean had continued, “Look, if your lucky lady’s got  _ any _ sense whatsoever… she’d run for the hills.” Sam had wanted to slap his hand on his face and intervene, but fate would not have it so, because Dean had opened his tactless mouth again, “Just tell her. If she runs for the hills; good for her - but then you’d know she’s not the one.”

Castiel was silent for a while. “It’s not a lady. It’s a man.”

Dean had made a strangled sound, but Sam had continued his bookmarking. Castiel likely didn't have any concept of gender or sexuality. That wasn’t unexpected.

“A’right, do you need the pitchfork gang, in case he breaks your heart?”

“I - what? Dean! I don’t… I don’t know how to tell him. Besides, you wouldn’t want to go after this person with a pitchfork… I’d be the one needing… the … pitchfork… gang” He’d sounded like he had great difficulty saying that, but Sam couldn’t really blame him. Dean was unique in that sense - in any sense, if Sam had any say - and he’d be the first one to ponder over his brother’s outlook and verbal choices.

But then his mind immediately screeched to a halt.  _ Cas _ would be the one needing a - dammit, Dean - pitchfork gang? He peeked over the shelves and saw both men by the table; Dean with his leg casually up on the other chair, curiously peeking at Cas, and Cas had had his elbows leaning on the table with his hands hiding his eyes, but Sam could clearly see the tightness of his lips from where he’d stood.

“Why?”

Dean’s voice was surprisingly level, though he was looking intently at Cas, almost as if daring him to say.

“Because it’s Sam.”

  
  


Sam got out of his mind trip and let out an awkward cough in an attempt to clear his throat.

“It’s… good to see you, Cas. It’s been a while.”

“Yes… I was meaning to…” what he had in mind didn’t come out as Dean got into the room in his dead-guy robe and halted when he saw Cas. He eyed him suspiciously, then eyed Sam - giving him a once-over, before he shrugged and padded his way to the kitchen.

Cas had gone tense in the meantime, and Sam could only imagine how awkward the two must have been feeling around each other, neither knowing that Sam knew, neither wanting to tell, and Sam felt like he was going crazy.

“So, Cas… anything new?” He could’ve hit himself on the head with the book in his hand. Maybe he should.

“Nothing new. Jack got in a little earlier. He’d had a few disagreements with some friends, but he wouldn’t tell me about it.”

Sam’s brows flew up to his forehead, “Jack has  _ friends? _ ” but felt ashamed of asking immediately. He should’ve known that, but he should also have equipped him more properly to handle socializing with non-family members. The boy was so grown, he sometimes forgot he was simply a two-year old in an oversized body.

Castiel nodded proudly, “From the town. I was thinking… maybe he should be enrolled?”

“In a school? Cas, you know how-”

“Yes, I know, but… he’s so young and he needs interaction with people his… well, with young people.”

Sam sighed, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Castiel looked at him then, intensely. “How have you been, Sam?”

Sam shrugged, an unconvincing smile on his face, “I’ve been good. We were just at a hunt in Lenora. Nothing unusual. Wait… except for this.”

Sam placed the book on the top of the shelf before rushing off to get his duffel. He rummaged inside it for a while before he took out the washed out cloth he’d placed it in, and turned back to see Cas had followed him with a curious look.

“I forgot I had it. I found it in the house,” he opened it gingerly, hands only touching the cloth as he showed it to Cas, “Everything there was dusty as hell, but this one was clean - as if someone had just gone to place it and left. When I - wait, don’t!”

Cas had taken a hold of the stone and turned it in his hand, light emitting from the sigil. Cas looked curiously at the sigil, then sighed exasperatedly.

“Someone’s playing a prank on you. This is enochian.”

“I’ve never seen that before.”

“You wouldn’t. It’s a profanity. Like graffiti on a wall.”

“So it’s nothing?”

“It’s nothing. Whomever placed it, knew you were going to be there, and tried to mess with you.” Cas placed the stone back in his pocket, and gave Sam a reassuring smile.

“That’s very reassuring,” Sam said sarcastically.

“In any case, I need to go… do something. I will see you later.”

Before Sam had any retort he’d already disappeared. That was a bit suspicious. Cas suddenly seemed like in a hurry, when just minutes earlier he’d talked about Jack and tried for smalltalk. Whatever that stone was, was obviously more than just a profanity rock.

  
  


“Sammy.  _ Sam _ !”

He shot out of the bed with a gasp, and looked up at Dean’s concerned face, his brother placing a hand on his shoulder, “You good, man?”

Sam nodded only now noticing the sweat dripping down his face, but Dean was on it in an instance, wet to his face. To his surprise he didn’t push him down on the bed, so he held the towel to his brow as he attempted to rise from his bed, the smell of chicken filling the room catching his attention, when Dean pushed at him.

“Ah-ah!” 

Dean had brought some extra pillows to prop up against the bed, and Sam looked at him bewildered, “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are. Lie down. Now.”

Sam laid down reluctantly, though part of him was grateful, as his body suddenly felt heavy.

“Here, some soup.”

Dean leaned to the nightstand, and the mystery of the chicken smell was resolved in an instance.

“How did you even know I would need this?”

“Big brother instincts.” Dean gave him a wink as he handed him a spoon. “I could feed-”

“No, thanks.”

“Too bad. I make an excellent choo-choo train.”

Sam let out a hoarse laugh, and Dean raised his brow in satisfied manner.

“ _ Sam! _ ”

Castiel barged in, eyes frantically looking him over, “Are you alright?”

Sam looked at him confusedly, and nodded hesitantly. Cas moved closer, completely ignoring Dean who spluttered, “How did  _ you _ know, he was sick?”

Cas took out the stone, and held it up.

“I was wrong. The profanity was simply a trick. The inside of this is  _ littered _ with curses that would kill whatever human came in contact with it. But it didn’t kill you.”

“Uhh, I must’ve missed something here;  _ kill _ ? Kill  _ Sam _ ?  _ My _ brother, Sam?” A murderous look entered Dean’s eyes as he rose, “Alright, who did this? I want name, weakness and location.”

Sam took a hold of Dean’s sleeve and dragged him down to the bed, urging him to calm down. He didn’t need for Dean to go into his big brother modes  _ now _ . Besides, the curse obviously didn’t take hold, because he was  _ fine _ . He’d definitely had worse.

“It was a rogue angel. They wanted to take revenge for the angels that died. I’m so sorry, Sam. This is my fault. They know that they could’ve easily hurt me, but they didn’t want to have more dead angels - even if the cost was to let me go and hurt-”

Cas pursed his lips, and shot a glance in Dean’s direction. Dean who was currently narrowing his eyes at the angel, as he slowly rose.

“Look here, you-”

“Dean!”

Dean sat down with a petulant look on his face. Sam pinched his arm, earning himself a stink-eye, before Sam looked at Cas, urging him to continue.

Castiel closed his eyes, and tightened his hold around the rock, “This should’ve killed you instantly, but it didn’t. I can only guess as to why. It could… be the demon blood… the stone could have detected it, and deemed you non-human, but the human part of you still suffered.” He gestured at the entire bed, as he said so.

It would make sense. Sam had always thought the blood made him different for more reasons than when he was chugging the stuff. He’d always felt like a freak, and this was just a confirmation of his fears. He closed his eyes, and leaned back. He felt like he should feel grateful that he’d survived - for once his curse kept him alive without requiring him to make a sacrifice - but it felt like it was the same old story. Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood. That was what Cas had called him the first time they’d met. Sam still remembers the knots forming in his stomach at the title.

“No.”

Sam looked to his right side, Dean’s eyes looking angrily at Sam, “You do  _ not _ hate yourself for this. For once? For once, I’m  _ happy _ the demon blood had its uses. You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me. Don’t you  _ dare _ , think that I’d prefer you to be dead now, you hear me?”

Castiel sat beside Dean, “I agree. If this is the demon blood - then I am grateful that it was able to save you. I-” He looked down, then up at Sam again, smiling, and Sam felt his heart skip a beat. “Rest. I’ll do whatever I can to find a way to cure you.” He nodded at Dean and got out. Sam felt a tightening in his throat, when Cas left, wanting him to stay a bit more.

Dean - for his part - looked somewhere between frustrated and amused, but turning to Sam, he pointed at his face, “This never happened,” and before Sam could ask him what never happened, Dean scooted further into the bed, covering both of them and turned on the TV. Sam snorted and let sleep take him.

  
  


A month had passed since Sam got cursed. Sam and Dean hadn’t heard from Castiel in a week, and Sam was frankly starting to feel a bit down - not that he hadn’t been from the sickness, but this was a whole other feeling. He didn’t know whether the confession Cas made to Dean was the reason that Sam allowed himself to feel something for the angel, even if it wasn’t intentional. He’d found himself more and more attached to Castiel’s presence and was always loath to see him leave. Now, he hadn’t been around for a week, and Sam felt silly for feeling like this.

The weeks in bed made him thinner, the muscles tense, and every movement hurt, but today he’d been feeling much better than he had for a while. The past two weeks had been riddled with new nightmares, but he hadn’t had those tonight either.

He was seated by the dinner table, when Dean came in and made a double-take.

“Morning, Sasquash,” He said, grinning

“Morning,” Sam answered, a tired smile making it to his face as he sipped his coffee.

Dean started on the breakfast, eggs, bacon and toast, and poured some of the coffee Sam had made into a cup of his own.

“Were you able to sleep tonight?”

Sam nodded, as he scratched the back of his head, “No nightmares.”

Dean made a face and gestured towards the bump on his head, as he moved to the table, placing their breakfast, making sure to place them closer to  Sam, “and your head?”

“It’s fine. So,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been looking at the news, and I found us a hunt that-”

“No.”

“Dean, I’m  _ fine _ .”

Dean just shook his head, and pointed at the food as he resolutely decided to ignore Sam. Sam huffed. He was about to interject when footsteps sounded behind him, Dean grinning,

“I thought you’d left for good.”

Castiel appeared in Sam peripheral vision, and Sam looked up at him, breathing out in relief, “You’re back!”

He didn’t mean to sound like that, but from the looks Cas  _ and _ Dean sent him, that was a rather unexpected reaction.

“Yes,” Castiel said, looking Sam over, “The culprit is dead. I was sorry it had to end like this, when we’re so few left, but they’d never have stopped.”

He sat down across from Dean, never taking his eyes off Sam.

“So, Sam found a hunt.”

Cas and Sam both whipped their heads at Dean; Sam’s look was hopeful, Cas looked disbelieving.

“I’m thinking of going; taking another hunter in the vicinity with me… if you could take care of Sam for me?”

Sam’s look of disappointment was blatant, and Dean sent him an apologetic look, but Cas looked like Christmas had come ear- well, it  _ was _ almost Christmas, he gave a sound of consent, as Dean finished up his breakfast and said, “You send me the details, Sam. I want you to be 100% before you go out. You’ve lost too much weight, man.”

Then he pointed a finger at Cas threateningly, “Do  _ not _ let him exert himself. He says he’s fine, and suddenly he’s in the bath, dancing with the curtain - “ Sam’s cheeks heated, “- do not even argue with me. That bump in your head is sign enough.”

Dean got up to clean off the table, when Cas stopped him, “I’ll take it; you go do your thing.”

Dean raised a brow in disbelief, “Well, don’t break anything.” He turned to Sam, placing a hand on his shoulder, a look of concern edged on his face and stood there for a bit, Sam looking up at him, and wanted to scold him, but couldn’t find it in him to do so with the protective gleam in his eyes. He gave him a short nod, and Dean nodded back as he took off.

Sam finished the last of his toast, as he glanced at Cas, who was picking up the finished plates. The domesticity of it made his cheeks burn. He’d always had a thing, he supposed, for seeing others do domestic work in a place he could call home. The fact that it was Cas amplified his fascination, and he had to look away, when Cas - who was taking his plate - stopped in his motion.

“Are you feeling feverish again?”

Sam shook his head as he cleared his throat, “No, no. Sorry.” he took his laptop as Cas continued to work and found the links he had found earlier to send them to Dean. He glanced at Cas as Cas disappeared and let out a sigh. Now was not the time to act like a lovesick puppy. He scolded himself quietly as he continued working, writing long paragraphs to Dean in the e-mail about his own theory on what the hunt could entail. He knew Dean would be making faces and commenting on what a nerd Sam was, but would be appreciative nonetheless, and sent it with a smile.

Cas came back and cleaned the crumbs off the table, then sat down.

“Sam, can I tell you something?”

“‘May I’.” Sam said with a smile, glancing his way, as he typed away.

“Ah, yes. The lingual conundrum.  _ May _ I tell you something?” At Sam’s assent, he continued, “I know that… as of late I haven’t been here as much as I’d like. I know that I haven’t been as forthcoming either. To you, I mean.”

Sam stopped typing and pushed the laptop a bit away from him as he looked at Castiel. “Cas… you don’t-”

“No, please. Let me say this.” He waited a beat and continued, “I’ve had this… feeling… in my chest. It’s quite a physical sensation, yet I know enough about human nature now to know that it’s emotional. It is merely a deception that  _ feels _ physical. I certainly understand the meaning of heartbreak much better now. If such a physical sensation comes from the heart at… something beautiful, then surely sorrow is very much able to break your heart in a way that-”

“Cas.”

“Yes, sorry. I’m going off tangent now. What I’m trying to say is… for a while I’ve had the most exhilarating feelings. I consulted Dean on the matter, and the last time I brought it up, he told me I was ‘whipped’. I do not feel ‘whipped’ however, but this is a terminology that I will never understand.”

“It just means you’d do anything for someone as if you were whipped,” Sam said, heart rate picking up. That traitor.

“Oh. Then, I do feel whipped. I feel particularly whipped whenever I look… or think… of you, Sam.”

Sam swallowed heavily, “I know, Cas. I… I overheard you and Dean talk. A while back.”

Cas’ mouth formed an ‘o’, as he tensed. The silence in the bunker was deafening. Sam contemplated what to tell him. He could say he was starting to have feelings for Cas too, but he didn’t want to rush this. He was  _ just _ starting to, and God knew how long Cas had been harboring these feelings for him. He didn’t want to hurt Cas, and Sam knew that despite Dean’s protective nature of him, he’d be the one to deserve Dean’s ‘pitchfork gang’ knocking on his door, rather than Cas. Cas always acted with such certainty when it came to his emotions. He wasn’t human, but he had the sort of loyalty that was hard to break.

“I’ll admit, I… was perplexed when I heard you. To the point that I didn’t know what to do about it whenever you were here. But I started craving your presence more. I know, I could easily have told you, when I knew how you felt, but… Cas… I’m not worth it.

I’ve been thinking this over for weeks, and I know that you mean it, when you say you feel it. But I don’t trust myself around people I love. Look at what happened to  _ every _ single person that I’ve ever loved. Look at Dean. If I were to pursue a relationship, then what? I’d have to suffer the same thing? I’m cursed, Cas. And everyone in my vicinity suffers.”

Castiel silently took in Sam’s words. He looked flabbergasted. Sam took the laptop closer to him; not continuing the e-mail, but simply held it close, as he waited for Cas to come out of whatever stupor he was in. Then - to Sam’s surprise - he smiled.

“Do you think two curses cancel each other out?”

Sam let out a surprised laugh at that. “I hope so.”

* * *

“No, Dean, I don’t require a - can you  _ stop _ ? Thanks.”

Sam closed down the call and moved to the kitchen. It’s been a few days since they decided to try out a relationship, and Sam had never seen Cas happier. Jack and Cas were playing a game of cards, and Sam took this opportunity to give Cas a kiss on his lips, which Cas happily leaned into.

Jack gave them a curious look, but didn’t comment as he waited patiently for Castiel to pay attention to him again.

Sam leaned took a spot between them as he watched the two beings go at it. If Jack had been the advantageous type, he could easily have won this round, but as such, he was not, and Sam watched them both fondly as he poured himself some more coffee.

“So, it’s Christmas Eve tonight.”

Cas and Sam looked at each other. Celebrating Christmas was not exactly a top priority for them since the end of the world happened the first time, but  they knew Jack enjoyed the holiday, even taking every opportunity to sport some Christmas-themed sweaters and last year even managed to wake up everyone with bells. Dean hadn’t appreciated it, Sam recalled with amusement, but he still tried to give him a good time that day.

“It is.”

“And do we have any plans?”

“Sorry, Jack. We’ve had a lot on our minds.”

Jack nodded, disappointed, and Sam’s stomach twisted at the sight. How many times had he been lamenting the lack of Christmas during his childhood? He was practically doing the exact same thing to Jack now, and wished more than ever that he’d been putting some more stock into the holiday despite their messed up lives. Jack deserved some semblance of normalcy.

After the card game, they started preparing the table for dinner as Dean could be back from the hunt at any time. He had made a stop by the diner in town. As the table was set, Jack sprinted across the room and up the stairs to Sam and Cas’ bewilderment, opening the door with a loud “Welcome back!”

They heard Dean laugh heavily, then a grunt, “Help me out here, kid,” before they both appeared, food in a bag, and a-

A small pine tree? Oh.

Jack’s face was alight with joy at the sight.

Dean grinned at them all, “Got some deco, here too,” he gestured at the bag hanging off the tree.

Sam got closer to Dean and engulfed him in a hug, “Thank you,” he said, hiding his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. He felt Dean’s hand clapping his  back.

“Hey, it’s all good. Thought we needed something cheerful for once, y’know. Maybe Santa Claus would decide to grant us some wishes for next year.” Sam laughed as he let go, at the same time as he heard Cas exclaim “That’s not how Christmas works in  _ any _ culture.”

Dean stuck out his tongue, “Party pooper.”

Sam felt his heart soften at the sight of them. Jack was happily placing the decorations on the tree, while Cas and Dean were bickering half-heartedly. Tomorrow, they’d once again be back to fighting monsters, the usual. Sam and Cas? Sam thought they’d be quite alright. He hadn’t felt this content in a relationship in years, even if it was quite new, but he and Cas also knew each other. Sam  _ knew _ now, that this was what he wanted. The world would continue being dark; the monsters would continue being a threat; and they would keep doing their job. Tomorrow was bleak, but dark and light were a part of each other. They may not have this moment forever, but they’d have this moment again.

This wasn’t the ideal Christmas, but it was theirs.


End file.
